After the war, The Healing of Panem
by Taylover
Summary: Remember when the victors voted for a Capitol Hunger Games with important people's children? Here it is! (rated T because it's the Hunger Games, what else would I rate it?) SYOT open, 13/24 spots remaining.
1. Prologue-Chapter 1

**AN: This first chapter is short, but more will be quick to come... please review and comment. thanks!**

Katniss POV

I woke up, shaking Peeta on the shoulder. "What is it, Katniss," he groans, shaking sleep out of his eyes. "Peeta, I just remembered, we have a Victor's meeting in an hour, about the Capitol Hunger Games. "Shoot!" He bounds out of bed and starts to pull on his clothes. "Why didn't you tell me before?" "Maybe because I just remembered right now? Ever thought of that?" I say, starting to get irritated. "Well I'm sorry that I offended you." Is his cold reply. Now I'm just sad. "Peeta, can we stop this, it reminds me too much of the old days before the second Games." "OK"


	2. The Snow Family-Chapter 2

**AN: here it is! Plz review. Also, I realized that I can't make up all the 24 characters by myself. It's now SYOT. In the next chapter there will be a tribute submission form. Thx so much guys! It's NOT first come, first serve, so plz put some effort into your tribute.**

 **Updates will be about every 2 days due to schoolwork. Sorry!**

 **Love you guys! I'll try to make the chapters longer!**

Seraphina POV

I had been lying in bed for three hours, but all I could think of was my grandfather. His white hair and beard. Our Sunday luncheons. His speeches to Panem. Finally I get up, at about one in the morning, and I go downstairs. My mother is still in the living room, sitting on the couch, head in her hands. "Thinking about grandpa again?" She ask. "Yeah" is my despondent reply. "You know, there's nothing you could really have done." She's trying to cheer me up again. "But I was so mean to him!" "What?!" Suddenly she looks very stern, but I have to get it out. "He was so boring, mom. At our luncheons all we would talk about was the economy, stocks and Katniss. It was all about Katniss. Katniss is going to start a rebellion. Katniss is doing propos for District 13. Katniss this. Katniss that. AND THEN HE ASKED ME WHAT MY KATNISS BRAID WAS!" I'm shouting. I take a deep breath and continue. "I was always somewhat cold and distant towards him. I would answer his conversation sparking questions with yes or no. Then there would be a long pause in which he would eat and I would stare off into space. And anyways, mom, you know I could have stopped his death, I never liked the Games, and I could have convinced him to stop then. Then, Katniss would be safe in 12, never having been reaped. There would have been NO REBELLION!" I'm out of breath. I sit down next to my mom and try to catch it. She is patting my back. "Seraphina, honey, it's gonna be okay. You and I both know that he never would have stopped the Games for his granddaughter. There would have been riots in the Capitol!" "I guess you're right." Relieved of my burden, I climb back up the stairs. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I'm asleep.


	3. Tribute Form-Chapter 3

**AN: Here is the tribute submission form. Plz send in your tribute as soon as possible: max 4 tributes per person. And this is NOT first come, first serve, so PLZ put some thought into your tribute. Arenas full of blond, white, Careers is BORING. I will not be taking tributes thru reviews; shoot me a PM. Deadline will be May 8, but plz try to get them in earlier. And plz don't get offended if your tribute is a bloodbath tribute. THX GUYS!**

Name: I like fancy Capitol names, and if you noticed Suzanne Collins made the Games world really Ancient Roman; Panem et circences, and names like Caesar

Age: Anywhere between 12 and 18

Family: Which important figure were they unlucky enough to be bred from? Describe this person. Gamemaker? etc.

Personality: What's their favorite thing to do? Hunger Games fanatic? Get a makeover? etc.

Look: Get in some crazy Capitol looks! Purple skin? Orange fire hair? Dragon tattoos? Anything!

Reaping reaction: Scream? Calm walk up to the stage? etc.

Parade costume: Anything!

Strengths/weapon of choice: bow and arrow? Sword? etc,

Weaknesses: it is impossible to be all powerful.

Interview angle: Sexy, powerful, funny, etc.

Alliances: Career? etc.

Private session:

Token:

 **Any other details you want to add. Make your tributes interesting! And** ** _I_** **will be picking the victor, bloodbath tributes, etc.**


	4. Serena, Hippolyta and Camellia-Chapter 4

**AN: Sorry guys, but I HAD to delete chapter 4. I just hated the way I wrote it. Ya I know I'm a perfectionist! Sorry I keep changing the story around. I should find a good beta who'll help me... any of you guys a beta?**

Serena ran a hand through her perfect hair, enjoying how the platinum blond contrasted with her sea green highlights. She called over her stylist, the only servant her mother had been able to afford since her father's death. Of course, they had still had their Avoxes, who didn't need pay, since before the rebels won. It was really too bad that President Paylor had freed them all and given them artificial talking devices. She had appreciated just how useful thet were when she had had to start actually cleaning her own room! It wasn't such a big deal, she kept telling herself, after the 74th Hunger Games President Snow had confiscated all but four.

"What do you need, Miss Crane?" The stylist asked, rousing her from her reverie. "Please redo my braid down my back." He complied immediately. She liked braids the best because they were the most practical and the prettiest at the same time. Even so, she hated it when people asked if it was a Katniss braid. She would completely lose control, even if they hadn't known who she was. "KATNISS IS THE REASON MY FATHER IS DEAD!" She would scream, "HE SAID TWO VICTORS COULD SURVIVE THEN REVOKED IT FOR A GOOD SHOW, AND THEN THE STUPID GIRL PULLED OUT NIGHTLOCK! SNOW SAID IT WAS ALL HIS FAULT, SO NOW HE'S DEAD!" She would then run away crying.

Luckily, people didn't usually mock her. They knew that before he had died, Head Gamemaker Seneca Crane had taught his daughter a few tricks. Serena's weapon was knives, and her forte was poison, but she knew some tricks with other weapons, too. Ironically, the only weapon she couldn't use was a bow and arrow, Katniss's weapon. She was stealthy and was the fastest sprinter in her grade. Even though she was only thirteen, she could imagine herself a contender in the upcoming Hunger Games. She knew the reapings were rigged, she would definitely get reaped. She didn't want to get her hopes up, but she could imagine herself becoming the youngest ever victor...

* * *

Hippolyta Flickerman called over a masseuse. "Deep tissue massage, pretty please," she said in her perfected Capitol acccent. As she lay down, she caught sight of a younger girl, very thin, looking at her from where she lay. She could see her looking at her curvy, well-fed body, her lavender hair, her pale yellow skin, and most obviously, the fire tattoo arounf her left eye. The girl looked very poor, as if spending the last of her last meager supply of money on a massage. "Idiot," thought Hippolyta, rolling her eyes.

What this spoiled brat didn't realise, though, was that she had been very lucky. If her father had been anything more than a commentator for the Games, she would very probably be even worse off than this girl. Nevertheless, she felt that she had gotten the short stick. Her father was in jail and her mother couldn't find a job anywhere. She felt the same way as Serena about Avoxes, always hearing her mother complaining loudly that she had to pay servants now.

Luckily, though, her father had a rather large amount of savings. She had never known hardship, and thought she never would, suspecting that even if the reapings were rigged, there would be people whose family had done much worse things than Caesar Flickerman. She had been really annoyed when her mother signed her up for training, but then realized she could become like her hero Clove. At that point, she suddenly realised that she wanted to become a victor! Now, she put her all into training and was planning on volunteering, her fiery personality supporting her.

* * *

Camellia pulled the bowstring back, then let it go. There was a thwang, and the arrow flew straight and true towards the target. It buried itself deep into the bull's-eyes mark. She heard her brother clapping behind

her. She turned around, flipping her long purple hair out of her eyes. "Oh come on, I'm not that good, if I get jumped I'm dead!" You see, she knew that the reaping was almost certainly rigged. She wanted to be ready when she was, because if your dad was District One's Head Peacekeeper, how could you avoid getting reaped?

"But Camellia, at least this way you've got a chance at the victor's crown." "You're right," she grudgingly admitted.

Camellia enjoyed training at District One's old training academy. It was now abandoned, but she and her brother Ronan liked coming here to practice, since it still had all of its targets and weapons. She had wanted to compete in the Games her entire life, and finally, her dream had become a reality. Her weapon was the bow and arrow, having trained in them her entire life. But all in all, faced with the sudden reality of actually going into the Games, she wanted to have a nervous breakdown. Nevertheless, she rubbed the lavender vine tattoo snaking down her left arm, and braved the future.

 **AN: I hope you like it, especially y'all who submitted these tributes! READ AND REVIEW!**


	5. The Victors Meeting-Chapter 5

**AN: 'Kay guys, first things first. I know about QUITE A FEW OF YOU who follow/favourite/alert this story who haven't even bothered to send in ANY tributes. And that's pretty annoying. I have 6/24 tributes so far, so I'm just goig to have to stop writing the story if you guys don't send in any tributes. But if I get at least 4 tributes by tomorrow at 6:00 pm, there will be 2 chapters posted by tomorrow at 10:00 pm. Thru review or PM, whatever suits you. I only have 1 boy so far, and no Bloodbaths. So that means you don't even have to write a very long submission, cuz SOMEONE needs send in Bloodbaths. Deadline for tributes has been extended to Tuesday May 17. Maximum 4 tributes per person. GET A MOVE ON PEOPLE!**

Peeta POV

We walk into a big conference room. At the side, there are tables filled with refreshments. They surround an oval table in the middle. President Paylor sits at the head of it. She motions Katniss to sit at the other head. Around the table sit all the surviving victors; Annie, Johanna, Beetee, Haymitch and Enobaria. As soon as Katniss and I are seated, Paylor begins.

"You are here today because we are planning a Capitol Hunger Games, as I am sure you know, since you are the ones who voted for it to happen. Since you are the only survivors of past Games, we want you to become the Gamemakers. Since Caesar Flickerman is in jail for assisting the Games, along with Claudius Templesmith, we will need someone to do their jobs. I think one person would suffice for both of them, they are not very demanding. Peeta, I was thinking you could, if you wanted, since you have such a jovial personality..." She stops and takes a breath. She seems stressed. I guess that's what happens, rebuilding a nation torn apart by war, trying to keep both former Capitolites and District people happy. I can see why President Snow started the Games, he must have decided that he would not be able to take another uprising, so the best thing he could think of was the Games. Stupid man, he should have known that if he kept them going annually for 75 years there would most certainly be another uprising.

"So?" I jerk, realising she's talking to me. "Oh, yes of course! I always loved the interviews with Caesar, I love talking, yes of course!" Katniss smiles at me. "And he's so easy with other people, like Caesar, I don't know how he does it. I get hostile and clam up. He's gifted, truly." She says in her low, clear, beautiful voice. "I'm not that good!" I laugh. "Good, good," Paylor says breathlessly. "Well, anyways, what do you guys think so far?"

"I'm all in!" Johanna lets out, not surprising anyone. "Give 'em a taste of their own medicine, put them all in the fucking arena!" "And you, Enobaria?" Continues Paylor, quickly stopping Johanna. "I don't think they should be allowed sponsors, make it hard for them." "Good idea!" Paylor says heartily. "Beetee?" "I still don't think these Games are a good idea," he says wearily. "But I was outvoted, so..." Haymitch steps in. "I agree with Johanna and Enobaria so far, but what are we going to do about mentors?" "Good point," Paylor agrees. "I think that, since there are no sponsors, they don't really need them. They can each have an escort, and the day before the interview they can have the four hours content, four hours presentation deal with one of you guys, me, or, well, we'll figure out who else later. And after training one day, one of you guys will go over Games strategies with them, private session strategies, things like that." "Of course they'll already know all the strategies, having watched the Games since they were little brats.." Spits out Johanna. "Yes, well, they never though they would have to compete in the Games, so cut them some slack." Paylor reminds her.

Paylor moves on around the table, asking Annie next. "So, Annie, what do you think of the Capitol Hunger Games?" Annie has been fine so far, but as soon as she hears the words, "Hunger Games" she lets out a little scream and buries herself in Johanna's lap. Johanna looks down, looking disgusted, but shows a side of herself that I have almost never seen before. "It's gonna be okay, Annie, calm down, come on, everything's okay, we'll protect you, we're here for you..." She says patting Annie's hair. Looking up, she sees me and glares at me. "What is it, Lover Boy?" She snaps.

After Katniss and I have shared our feelings, Paylor stands up. "Ok guys, thanks for your time. I'll write down what we said today. Next meeting is Tuesday, 4:00 pm. Don't be late." With that she turns and walks out the door.

Katniss and I walk Annie home. She lives just a floor under us. After the rebellion Paylor built "Victor's Quarters," an apartment building for the victors. We don't have to live here, but it's nice. For about a month each year we visit the rebuilt District 12, which is now a town called Siena, after an old Italian town, to see Katniss's mother. We are thinking of moving there after the Games.

Since Panem was named after _panem et circenses,_ the Ancient Roman saying, we have renamed all the districts after Italian towns and cities. The Capitol is also officially called Rome now, but everyone still calls it the Capitol.

After dropping Annie off, Katnis and I walk back to our apartment. Once the door is locked, Katniss pins me against the wall. "Hey, Lover Boy," she says mischieviously. I kiss her on the lips, hard. She snakes her hand up my shirt, onto the small of my back, holding me close. I run my fingers through her hair. We still haven't broken the kiss. We stay there, holding each other, for way too long. It is our way of dealing with the trauma that we have experienced. Finally, we break apart.

 **AN: Send in ur tributes else I can't write this story! Remember, if I get at least 4 tributes by 6:00 tomorrow, you got 2 chapters comin' ur way by 10:00 tomorrow! SEND IN TRIBUTES! AND REVIEW THE STORY! I NEED SOME BOYS AND SOME BLOODBATHS!**


	6. Octavius, Carlos, Zee, Claudia-Chapter 6

**AN: So, I feel really loved and really UNloved at the same time. There is one person who has sent in 4 tributes, 2 people who have sent in 2 tributes, and the rest of the people who follow the story who I KNOW follow the story cuz I get email alerts about it (ya I know I'm a stalker) who just read the story but haven't even sent in a single tribute... thanks a lot guys, ur the reason I feel so unloved. There are 15 places left in these Games! Boys or girls, Bloodbaths or contenders, ANYTHING! (I mostly need Bloodbaths though) But anyway, stop being idle little nincompoops and SEND IN A TRIBUTE! DEADLINE MAY 17!**

 **Anyway, special mention goes to...drumroll please...**

 **1\. amethyst2003, who sent in 4 tributes (we love you Amethyst!)**

 **2\. ThomasHungerGamesFan, who sent in 2 REALLY LONG AND COMPREHENSIVELY WRITTEN tributes (we love you Thomas!)**

 **3\. alternatereality42, who sent in 2 tributes (we love you Alternate!)**

 **The rest of you, GET OFF YOUR BUTTS AND PM/REVIEW ME A TRIBUTE!**

 **Well that was a REALLY long author note...**

Octavius skilfully threw his net, trying to wind it around his mother's legs. But she was too quick, having spent years training tributes, half of them as the Head Trainer. She thrust in with her sword, but she had trained him too well. He blocked with his trident, and they were at a stalemate. They stood there, panting heavily for a few seconds, before Atala caught her breath.

"That was amazing, Octavius! Quite the feat, almost defeating the Head Trainer of 8 years!" "So.. You think I'm ready?" "Of course!" Atala responded. This surprised Octavius a lot. Ever sine he was five years old, Octavius had been training to compete in the Hunger Games. Atala had been planning on asking Snow if he could become a citizen of District One, on the day of the reaping, so that he was eligible to volunteer. When he returned, he would return to being a Capitolite. Luckily for both of them, though, it was now even easier! The Capitol Games' reaping would be in two days, and he was planning on volunteering. Atala had been training him long and hard, and this was his chance to shine. He had specially dyed his hair red and his skin an ashen gray to look more menacing. Combine that with his obsidian black eyes and skull and crossbones tattoo on his right temple, and he was sure to both scare tributes out of their minds and attract lots of sponsors.

* * *

Carlos adjusted the reading glasses perched on his long brown nose and peered at the formula on his desk: Ra*8x2Bh(Os87)%4!=Muttation A2E# (otherwise known as SpiderMan). He looked down at the diagram of a SpiderMan, frowning. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. He started scribbling fast and furious. Suddenly, the voice of his mother registered in his mind. "Carlos, sweetie! Time for dinner!" He realised he was starving. Dropping his pen, he ran from the room that served as his bedroom/study into what was their kitchen/living room/dining room. The only other room in their tiny hut was his parent's bedroom. A makeshift outhouse was outside.

"Hello, Carlos." His father said tiredly, again fidgeting with the anklet that held him to the confines of their property. He could go in the garden, outhouse, or hut, but anywhere else and Police Officers would come flying down on him. Carlos grimaced. He felt bad for his father. Less than two years ago, he had held the prestigious position of Mutt Gamemaker. This was the Gamemaker in charge of all the mutts in the arena. Now, he had taught Carlos all of his knowledge, and was wasting away in a tiny, three-room hut. At least, Carlos and his father called it a hut. His mother insisted that it was a cottage.

"Did you solve the formula?" Asked his father, as they slowly picked away at their meager dinner. "Yeah! It was so fun!" Carlos and his father got into an animated discussion, debating different versions of different mutts, comparing notes on the new one that they were inventing, and, overall, just having a great time sharing their passion. It helped them forget about the hard times, especially the upcoming Hunger Games...

* * *

 _She was ten years old. She had taken the shortcut home from school, and had stopped in the middle of an alleyway to text her friend, "lol, ur so funny!" when she heard someone behind her. She whipped around, but never got to see who it was. A club flew into her head, knocking her out cold._

Zee sat up, shaking. Memories flashed through her mind. The deserted island that she was taken to after being kidnapped. Finally cutting through the ropes that bonded her, after days and days of knawing at them. Swimming as fast as she could through freezing cold water. Ending up on a barren strip of land. Walking for days, on beaches, through forests, into ruined cities, living on rats. Finally she had found herself at the edge of Panem, in District 13. They had sent her back to the Capitol, to her mother, the Arena Gamemaker. They had told her never to tell anyone that District 13 existed, including her mother, or she and whoever she told would be tortured and killed. They had tried memory modification, but back then their technology was too weak and her mind had resisted it. Now, she was glad she had. It had given her motivation to train in martial arts, swordfighting, knife throwing, and survival skills. This made her a contender in the Capitol Games, for which she would most certainly would be, given her heritage. As far back as she could remember, the women in her family had been Gamemakers. Ever since the Games began. Her great-grandmother even helped create the Games! Now, she was very glad for the kidnapping.

Zee stood up, stretching her long, curvy body. That's all behind you now, she told herself sternly. It won't do you any good to be having nightmares that wake you up screaming in the arena, it will simply draw tributes. Try to get over it now, Zee. Time to train for the Games.

She grabbed a granola bar and a glass of milk. She finished her breakfast quickly. She took a quick look in the mirror. Zee had pale white skin, ebony hair, full red lips and big blue eyes. She could be quite pretty if she wanted, but Zee blamed her looks for her kidnapping and so her hair had been cut short and she wore no makeup. She stroked the tattoo of the word "shiv" (to stab with a knife) under her collarbone then turned and walked out the door. Time to kill.

* * *

Claudia lay in bed, silently crying. The Capitol Hunger Games had just been announced. She was sure they were rigged, and her mother, although slowly dying in jail, had been Snow's poisons master. She had been his adviser and longtime friend, and had killed too many innocent Capitolites for her to count. Claudia was a pretty good athlete, but she had never fought anyone in her life. Even worse, when she had been watching the Gamemakers prepare the arena for the 74th Games, having saved up her pocket money all year to watch this, a rogue fireball had caught her in the leg. Although she had gotten a fireball tattoo where it hit, meaning that she had accepted that this had happened, she sill walked with a limp. Finally, she sat up.

Claudia decided that she had had enough for the day. She undid the complicated braid in which she often wore her blonde hair, then curled into bed with a good book. This calmed her right away, and she drifted off to sleep...

 **AN: That's the first promised chapter out of two guys! And if you haven't yet, send in a tribute!**


	7. Leacra and Precious-Chapter 7

**AN: I'm pretty disappointed in some of you guys. Not only have you not submitted A SINGLE TRIBUTE, you leave hate mail in my PM inbox. Because I promised to upload a chapter Wednesday night three weeks ago. Well, I uploaded it, and in it I said that I would not be able to upload for a few weeks, due to finals. I didn't even have time to check my inbox for three weeks. Then I realised that there was a glitch and it hadn't uploaded. Sorry guys!**

 **As well, there are at least five hundred views of this thing on fanfiction (not a lot, but still) and I have about 12 tributes. How does that work, especially when almost everyone who submitted a tribute submitted two? WTF GUYS!**

 **Last thing. I am now going to upload only every Sunday, to make chapters longer and better written.**

 **For some reason there is a whore in pretty much every SYOT**

Underage drinking was never _technically_ allowed, but nobody ever asked for your I.D at bars, even if you looked about ten. Now, 21 was the legal age, and Leacra wasn't even allowed to _sit_ at a bar. This really sucked, since sitting in bars offering men and even sometimes women her services was her only source of revenue, ever since her mother, whose job was officially a Victor liason, but which consisted of contacting a Victor to tell them who wanted to sleep with them. She herself had lain with Finnick Odair and Brutus. Now it was all Leacra knew. Her life was basically go to a bar at night, then wake up in the morning in a stranger's bed. She would take the money and race home to her one-room apartment, where she'd shower off any crud picked up that night in freezing cold water, then race to the supermarket for her day job being Capitol servants' servant, not that the Capitol servants really did anything. They had no idea how, Avoxes having done work for as long as most people could remember. Now, they had to do some things themselves, like maikng beds, and although they whined loudly, they were none the worse for wear. She hated them.

Leacra hoped that she wouldn't be reaped for the upcoming Games. She knew she probably would, but training never even crossed her mind. She thought, I have nothing better to do with my life, at least I'll be killed honorably. She didn't want to die a silent, unremarkable death, even if she had though about it and had even tried to take her own life several times.

* * *

Precious Winter was having the time of her life. She flew around the warehouse, dancing with everyone in sight. She twirled along in that silk blue dress, the one that accented her beautiful blue eyes and flowing blonde hair. She was wearing the little gold "O" necklace, the one that Oscar, her brother, had given her. Precious never thought to count her blessings, but if she did, she would have realised that Oscar was the best brother she could ever hope for. They were the best of friends, almost never squabbling. He was the sexy, popular, handsome young man who was always the life of the party, wore the latest, most flattering clothes, had a girlfriend whose dad was a billionaire, and was Precious's role model. She was his baby, his "Precious" who he had trained in fighting since she was three. They were perfect, a brother and sister pair who were absolutely inseperable.

Precious glanced over at her parents. Satin and Atticus Winter were in deep conversation. They made an odd pair, him with his long face, short spiky dark blue hair, bright hazel blue eyes, a straight nose, a small mouth with thin lips, a French style moustache and a pale skin. He had lots of tattoos, mostly on his arms, legs and on his back. He was always wearing black clothes. On the other hand, Satin had an oval face, long wavy light purple hair, bright almond light purple eyes, a small nose, a small mouth with full lips (lip injection) and a pale skin. She underwent some plastic surgery: buttocks, lips, cheekbones and nose. She also had gems implanted on her skin. She was always wearing bright colours (pink, yellow, orange, green...) Luckily her parents got on well, a housewife and a top adviser of President Snow. They were protective, caring, loving and sweet. Precious was very glad of these things, subconsiously. Her family had sculpted her into the perfect Capitol lady, and she had been working up to the position of Gamemaker. She was aiming for Head, because she had lots of good arena ideas. athletic, adventurous, brave, courageous and sneaky and at the same time careful and discreet. She can explore without being seen. She thought she could very possibly get it, ambitious, determined, hard-working, persistent, energetic and tough. She could be really dangerous sometimes because she had a unique determination. She was ready to do what she has to do to survive when she was in danger. She is true, sincere, generous, honest, smart and a bit shy. What Precious didn't count on was that some people though her moody, and she could be really aggressive, impulsive, vulgar, stubborn and also very b*** sometimes. She was materialistic and superficial because she had been used to it from an early age (she's from the Capitol so, everything is big and luxurious...). Precious was nervous when she's under stress. She has something inside her that pushes her limits and fights with her: love. And, finally, Precious has a great survival instinct. She's not fan of the Annual Hunger Games like most of people in the Capitol but she was forced to watch every single one. But if she knows one thing it's that you don't have to be the best, the stronger or the most powerful to win these Games.

 **AN: Sorry guys, that one was short, simply being the one to get me back on track. I lost this chapter in the glitch last time. It had 3 more tributes in it, don't worry.**

 **Next Sunday's chapter will be longer, I promise. NOW SEND IN A TRIBUTE!**


	8. The First Two Decisions-Chapter 8

**AN: Time for the next Victors' meeting! (I just got a new computer that I'm not used to typing with; cut me some slack on typos this time around)!**

Katniss POV

It's Tuesday. 4:00 pm. Time for our next meeting. I can't say I'm excited, but I am definitely ready. My left knee bounces as we all silently wait for Paylor to arrive. As the door creaks open, Annie takes a deep breath and clutches her son to her breast. Last time she left him with a babysitter, but apparently she's too paranoid to leave him again. No surprise, really, after what happened when Finnick left her. Still enthralled in the aftershock of marriage, he suddenly left. And then suddenly, forever.

"Ahem." Paylor clears her voice, and we all jump to attention. "Welcome, victors. I am hoping to make this our final meeting before the announcement and countdown to the Games begin. We may need an extra one, depending on whether or not we can get everything covered with everyone still present." She smiles at Annie, then turns and frowns at Johanna. Ha. Then she straightens up, pulls out a porta-holo, and turns it on. Up pops a chart of things that needed to be cleared up before the Games. We all turn and focus on it.

"Number one. Tribute selection." 

A chorus of voices breaks out at once. We all have different opinions about what is arguably the most important part of the punishing feature of these Games. Any Games, in fact, where victors' kids usually got reaped as soon as they were twelve years old. Paylor puts up an open palm, signifying silence. She starts to speak. "The Hunger Games have always been intended for punishment. The tributes, their family, and friends were the ones being punished. That is why how we select the tributes is of the utmost importance. There are a few methods that are first and foremost on my mind when I think of this. The first of course, is the normal reaping. We would put everyone's name into one bowl, one for boys and one for girls. Since there will be twelve names drawn from the bowl, rather than one, there would be no tesserae or extra slips for older children. It would be straightforward and simple, but Capitolians almost as downtrodden as district people risk being reaped. Which brings us to the second method."

"A normal reaping would occur, but only select children's names will be in the bowl. For example, if their father was a shopkeeper, the children would be safe. On the other hand, a boy whose mother was a Gamemaker would be in the bowl. So, moving on. Method th…. Yes, Haymitch?" I look over at Haymitch, who is raising his hand to add something. "I like that idea. It's a good one. But it's not really fair to those whose parents were, for example, on a prep team. My idea is that we should have an increasing number of slips for increasing status levels. Each status level should have it's own bowl, well, two, one for boys and one for girls. To give you an idea, a regular child's slip would be 1 times 1. It would be in the 1 bowl. Someone whose parents were on a prep team, 2 times 2. In the 2 bowl. Worked in the training centre, 3 times 3. And so on until President Snow's granddaughter, whose slips would be at 12 times 12. We'll have to figure out a boy at for the same level. Obviously, these two would certainly be reaped. Would that work?" Everyone can see that Paylor loves this idea. She facepalms. "Why on earth didn't I think of that before? I really like that! Let us have a vote on our options so far."

Johanna loves it. So does Enobaria. Peeta and Beetee both think that if the Games really are happening, this is the fairest way to do things. Annie stares mutely ahead, acknowledging no one. Me? I think Haymitch is a genius, which is something I will never tell him. Ever. EVER. "Well, I think it's decided. This is how tributes will be selected for the Capitol Games." Paylor turns away and quickly types something into her laptop.

"Next topic: The arena."

"You guys are the Gamemakers. This part is all up to you. I'm off for a coffee break. I don't think I can stand you guys for another thirty seconds." She turns to leave, then stops and turns back. She gestures at Peeta. "Call me when you're done," and throws him a walkie-talkie.

The minute Paylor leaves the room, everyone starts to talk at once. Annie peers at me through the babble, and utters one word. "Mockingjay." I know what she means. I know what I must do. These victors will look to me as a leader, some albeit grudgingly. I take a deep breath and clear my throat. Gathering my courage, I get out of my place and take Paylor's place at the head. "Everyone, please calm down. We will go around the table, and each take a turn to describe our ideas. At the end, we will take a vote." At this idea of democracy and reasoning, everyone seems to quiet down. "Any questions?" Johanna is the only one. Will I have to improvise? As it turns out, her question is typical Johanna, and we all know how to deal with this. "What happens if my idea is so gory that all you puny wimps will immediately veto it?" "Johanna, this is the Hunger Games." I remind her. "There has always been an aspect of pleasing the Capitol audience to it. Now, we're pleasing the districts. There will be replays of these Games for years to come. If the Games are an hour long ordeal in a meat grinder that even adults can't watch, how will that go over? These rebels need to be able to show this to their twelve-year-old daughter and say, look, there's President Snow's granddaughter, fighting in the Hunger Games. Just like your older brother. Here we are, getting vengeance. And anyhow, isn't the whole point for the parents to suffer? If the parents know that there's a 23 in 24 chance of their kid being killed in an hour, then they'll be pretty antsy. But once the kid's dead, with only an hour of suffering to boot, they switch to recovery from trauma mode. On the other hand, seeing your kid suffer for days and having that small hope that they'll get out of there alive, which is finally crushed, is absolutely horrible. Take it from a girl who interviewed dozens of Games-scarred mothers."

I take a breath to continue, but Johanna intervenes. "Ok, Katpiss, we get the picture…." I realize I'm babbling. "Sorry. So, Beetee," I address the man to my right. Luckily, it looks like he's gotten over his initial reservations and gone back to the man who invented the bomb that killed Prim. "I was thinking of a simulated Capitol block, with unseen horrors. Mines. Mutts. All that. And if you don't like that idea, we could simulate an out-district. Peacekeeper mutts. Leftover tracker jackers. And in the final eight, a "Reaping." On live television, we will pull out a certain number of the eight names. Three, for example. The tributes don't have access to this info. Then, we somehow lock the three chosen tributes into a room together. If they're not fighting, make them. Stuff like that." Well. Beetee's not _as_ violent when Gale's not around. I draw up a holo-chart and put in his ideas. Onto the next. Uh-oh.

"Johanna. Do you have an idea?" Luckily, it seems she's sulking. "No." She gives me a dirty look. Ugh. "Peeta?" "I'm thinking the good old fashioned wilderness arena. They've watched many Games like that, but never thought they'd participate in one. They complained when the tributes

died of things like cold, dehydration, and starvation. They talked about how _they_ could have done so much better than that district sh…stuff. Now, make that a reality. Let _them_ starve, freeze, die of thirst." I was expecting someone to say that. I put it in the holo-chart.

"Enobaria." She bares her teeth at me, but clearly this is just for show. She, too, is still traumatized by the Capitol. She takes a deep, rattling, breath, and starts to speak. "I know that this _sounds_ like I'm stealing from Beetee, but I _did_ have this idea. Instead of a Capitol block simulation, we could give them a taste of life in one of the outer districts. I get that it sounds pretty hypocritical, coming from a Career from District Two, but they are always stunned why the inner districts fight so much better than the others. They call them party poopers, show spoilers, cowards, all because they think that their lives are just as good, if not better than, Capitolians. They hate it when someone wins using smarts." She winces sheepishly at Haymitch and Beetee. They shrug.

It's funny, the more I get to know Enobaria, or Ria as we all call now, the more I like her. She never wanted to go to the Games, never even wanted to train. She is empathetic towards non-Career districts, and doesn't ridicule them like other Careers. The only reason she ripped out a boy's throat was because her hands were tied and he was about to kill her. She still wakes up screaming and retching from the taste. The teeth were, in fact, done while she was sedated in recovery. She never wanted them. She tells me that her own mentor threatened to kill her best friend if she didn't put on a good show with the teeth. After a while, Ria just got into the habit. She still uses it as a cover if she's slightly uneasy. I am roused when she clears her voice. "Anyhow, I think that, instead of simulating a Capitol block, we should simulate an outer district. They will basically live in a district for an average of about three to five days each. Depending, of course, on the tributes' fighting abilities." She shrugs, and opens her mouth to continue. "We will have the usual horrors. Peacekeeper mutts." She inclines her head at Beetee. "A shortage of food, so that only the stronger ones will have food, and, even then, just enough. Of course, food will be cheap on the sponsor lists. We _do_ have a show to put on. As well, instead of a force field, we could have an electrified, barbed wire fence that have mutt tunnels running under them, that come up just in front of the fence, so that it looks like wild animals are coming through the fence. We could have other things, too, like a drought that lasts _just_ long enough to not kill anyone, natural disasters, and more." She closes her mouth and sits down. This conclusion is greeted with a round of applause. This gets one of her rare smiles. Obviously, her idea is a hit. I smile as I jot it down in the holo-chart.

"Annie?" Instead of whimpering and hiding her face, like I had suspected she would, Annie starts to speak. Tentatively, of course, but this is definitely a big improvement. "Maybe, instead of putting horrors in, we could just simulate the Capitol? Or an outer district? They can create their own horrors…." She trails off, staring into the distance at something no one else can see. "Great idea, Annie" I say warmly. Peeta starts to clap. Soon enough, the rest of us join in. Whew. One more to go.

"Haymitch." Wow, it's a good day for sulking victors. "Everyone stole all my ideas." He says sullenly. Meh. He's probably just still sore that Paylor has prohibited alcohol. And not just prohibited, either. She has literally put drones in place that smell alcohol being made, whether it's legal or moonshine, and swoop in to spy. If you're making an alcoholic beverage illegally, well, Haymitch doesn't have a death wish. Yet.

Well. That went as well as I could hope for. Time for the vote.

 **AN: I hope my other chapters get to be this long. I really hate writing short chapters. But seriously, I write chapters that I think are super-long, and they are SO SHORT! Anyways, hope you guys liked this chapter. Want to vote like the victors? An arena poll is up! Vote fast before I'm done writing the next chapter, and you will have a say in the arena! Byeeee…**


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